“Sure. Thanks.” Just then, Charlie came out of the bedroom looking mouthwateringly hot in a black, button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, faded jeans and his Doc Martins.
“Okay, Sweets, I’m outta here.” Charlie swooped me into his arms, ignoring Jenny completely, and kissing me deeply. I was somewhere between breathless and mortified. Charlie hadn’t been much into public displays of affection in Georgia. Granted we were on our own most of the time.
“I’ll be back around five?” he said, no trace of Georgia in his accent. I couldn’t help but wondering, are we heading back to Cocky Chase?
“Sounds good,” I said, swallowing my embarrassment and desire.
Charlie then headed over to Jenny. He kissed her cheek and said, “Nice to meet you, Jenny. Have a nice chat.” Then he was gone. Suddenly, I felt hopelessly alone. I know Jenny was there, but somehow, Charlie had become my other half.
I plopped down on the sofa and invited Jenny to sit. I asked how things were going with Ankur and the wedding plans. She admitted that she was pretty much out of the loop at this point, her mother and future mother-in-law having taken over, and supposedly letting Jenny sit back and be pampered. But Jenny wanted some American elements worked into the ceremonies and was getting pushback from both sides.
“In the end, I guess it really doesn’t matter,” she said. “So, I’m sure you didn’t call me over to hear me blather on about my wedding plans. You sounded anxious.”
“Oh, did I?”
“Yeah, you did,” she said sheepishly. “Is it Chase?”
“Not exactly, no.” How do I cut to the chase and say, I’m pregnant and I need an obstetrician. I couldn’t help it. I burst out laughing, nerves taking over. Suddenly, I was sorta wishing I hadn’t called Jenny. I should have just eeny-meeny-miny-moed the names that I looked up. “Sorry. No. Chase is great. Well, I could do without the photographers here in New York.”
“It’s amazing how fast their pics hit Twitter and social media. But you’re living every girl’s dream. You know that, right? I mean, it’s Chase Smythe. Or should I say, Choebe.”
“Huh?”
“Your portmanteau name.”
“My what?”
“Well, you and Chase. Maybe you know it as a ‘shipping’ name. Your names blended together. Like Bennifer. And TomKat. Brangelina. On Twitter… that’s your hashtag.” She flipped open her phone and the Twitter app. She entered in #Choebe, and it was one of the number one trending hashtags. “I was partial to PhoeChay, but Choebe took off instead,” she shrugged and smiled.
I paged through the dozens of Twitter updates with the hashtag and was dumbfounded. We were far from a super-couple, something the ‘shipped’ names were usually meant for. Why the public felt the need to mesh our names, I couldn’t imagine. It was better than being #ChaseSmythesGirl, I guessed. I chuckled when I realized that if people knew Chase’s real name was Charlie, we’d probably be Charbe. Feeling confused about my new ‘celebrity,’ I handed her phone back to her.
“So, come on. What’s bothering you hon. I promise I won’t judge, and I’ll help in any way I can.” Her warm brown eyes focused on me, and she took my hand.
I took a deep breath, to fight off the pending tears. Saying this again wasn’t getting easier. It was just getting harder. “I need a doctor recommendation.”
A look of concern blanketed Jenny’s face. “Oh, sure. Are you not feeling well? Is there something you’re concerned about? What kind of doctor? Or just a regular check up kind of thing?”
“Um, an O.B.?”
“Oh a gynecologist. Sure, I love mine. She’s great. Needing a pill refill? Or looking to get on the pill? You don’t think you have an STD, do you? Sorry, I didn’t ask that. I’ll shut up now,” she said burying her nose in her phone, I think looking for her doctor’s phone number.
“Well, it’s a little late for the pill.” Maybe if I hinted enough, I wouldn’t have to say the words. I waited for what I’d said to sink in. She looked up at me, and I watched her chew on my words. As realization hit her, the tears I’d been working on keeping back, spilled.
“Oh, honey,” she whispered, pulling me in for a hug. “Are you sure? I mean you’ve been under a lot of stress. I mean, you’ve had a lot going on this past month with the move, and the job, and…”
I wrapped my arms around her, grateful for her friendly embrace. “I took a home test, and…”
“Okay, well, it’s not the end of the world. We can get through this. How late are you? Whose is it? Not that cad of an ex with the two girls in your dorm?” I couldn’t even reply. It was all so humiliating. And she was being so great. “Shhh,” she soothed.
When I got my sobbing under control, she went to the bathroom and came back with a box of tissues. I took care of my eyes and nose, and tried to ‘grow up.’ I took a few cleansing breaths. And went back to when my last known cycle was. And she calculated, as I had, that I’d probably gotten pregnant in April. Stupid college parties with too much drinking and ridiculous party favors.
“So. We need to get you in to see Dr. Mora, and get things figured and taken care of.”
Her choice of words set off a new collection of sobs.
“Honey. What did I say? It’s going to be okay.”
“I’m not getting an… an… abor… no, I’m not!” I stammer. I couldn’t believe how over the past couple of days I’d solidly decided to go with adoption. “I’m going to put the baby up for adoption. It’s best.”
“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant. I didn’t mean abortion. I’m sorry. Adoption. That’s beautiful. Are you sure?”
“Jenny, I’m nineteen. I’m in school. I have dreams. And other families have dreams of having a baby and can’t. It’s the best choice.”
Jenny smiled her brilliant, warm smile at me and hugged me again. “You’re amazing.” Suddenly, she gasped. “Does Chase know?”
“Thanks,” I said, a smile breaking out onto my face at how amazing he had been about this whole thing. “And, yeah. I found out while we were in Georgia. Chase and I talked. Long story.”
“And he’s okay with this? Wow.” She sat back and looked at me, initially with shock, but then she saw that everything was completely good with him. “Somehow I wouldn’t have expected that from Chase. You know, given his reputation. You’re a very lucky girl.”
“I know. Can we call your doctor?”
Ten minutes later, I had an appointment with a Dr. Vanessa Mora. She actually didn’t have an appointment opening for new patients until mid-July. But Jenny quickly explained that I really couldn’t wait for six weeks. And since Jenny’s dad was a close friend of Dr. Mora’s, and realized the urgency of the situation, she agreed to open her doors for a quick consultation and preliminary work tomorrow morning at eleven-thirty.
Having gotten that all worked through, I started to feel a little better. Not sure if better was the right word, but organized… adult. Jenny wanted to go with me, but I told her that Chase actually wanted to take me. She found that completely irresistible, and I had to agree. Around five, Jenny headed out to meet up with her family, present and future, and I was left in my apartment all by my lonely.
I flipped through my phone, and opened my Twitter feed. I was now being ‘followed’ by more than 800,000 people! There were old pics of me posted from high school.
Shit!
Pics from my freshman year back in Ohio. Pics of me with Dickwad Danny.
Double shit!
Then I remembered that Dickwad had called. Great! Begrudgingly, I played the voicemail he’d left.
“Hey, Phoebe. It’s Danny. Fitzsimmons. So, listen, I really kinda need to talk to ya… and—” There was a woman’s voice saying something in the background, to which he said to her, “—I’m not leaving that on a voicemail.” Then back to me, I guess, “So, Lucy said that you’re living in New York. Working for a TV network. Cool. So, uhh, well, um, yeah. We need to talk. Call me? If I don’t hear from you, I’ll call again.”
>
Triple Shit!
He wanted to ‘talk.’ Something he couldn’t just ‘leave on a voicemail.’ This couldn’t be good. My mind did a fine job of going over all the reasons Danny could have been calling about. He was sorry… or he wanted me back… or he (gulp) had a horrible disease, and was required by law to tell me about it. My thumb hovered over the CALL BACK button. Should I call him back? Did I care what he had to say? Should I just force him to leave whatever he had to say on voicemail? God, could my life get anymore fucked up?
I needed to get out of my black hole of thoughts regarding Danny so I busied myself with cleaning out my fridge and making a grocery list. When I’d grabbed Jenny’s water earlier, I couldn’t help but notice a few things had gone ‘south,’ and there wasn’t much else in there. So, I grabbed my purse and headed out to the grocery store to stock my fridge a bit, and get things to make dinner for Charlie; Pineapple Teriyaki Beef.
I was back around six, and ran into the messenger with the new schedule for Monday from Valerie. I didn’t open the package right away, rather I simply went up to my apartment to start the rice and prep beef for the stir-fry. Just as I was getting annoyed-slash-worried about Charlie’s whereabouts, Gilbert rang the intercom asking if it was okay for him to come up. Suddenly, I was anxious to see him. Would his few hours back in the city send him back to his same ‘ole ways?
Hanging up the building’s intercom phone, my cell phone blinked with a new Twitter alert. The first picture I saw, sent me shaking. It was Charlie and Sydney Young, his co-star from Book Ends! She was hugging him and laughing and he was smiling. Nervously, I couldn’t tell if it was his real smile or his paparazzi smile. The next picture had her kissing him on the cheek. And the pic after that was him kissing her back! Hearing the ding of the elevator down the hall, I took a few deep yoga breaths to clear my mind. I tried to remind myself that Chase was a job. He was just a job. I actually had a job, my internship that I was totally excited about, that I needed to get back to. And school? I had classes starting in the fall. If I failed at this internship, NYU would probably drop me. And it was all going to be so damn hard growing a baby in me. Fuck!!! I had been so stupid to think that Charlie was real. He was putting on an act for his mom. That’s all this was. He was trying to make her happy that he’d settled down and had a real girlfriend.
Sooner than I was ready, Charlie burst in, carrying a large garment bag and a file folder. He was beaming. He held up the garment bag and was talking so quickly about Friday that I could barely make out what he was saying. Carefully, he lay the garment bag over the back of one of the breakfast bar chairs and the folder on the counter, then he came in and swooped me in his arms, spinning us around.
“It’ll be amazing! I can’t wait for you to see L.A.! But holy shitballs! I love New York! And I cannot wait for you to see our new condo! The private workout room, the home theatre, the kitchen, and the view! Incredible! You’re gonna to love it! The best part is that we can move in at the end of the month!”
“Whoa, whoa….” I said, trying to laugh, but I really felt like crying. His southern drawl was gone. He was Chase. He’d left as Charlie and came back as Chase. And what was he saying about Friday? And ‘our condo’? I swallowed hard and tried to steady my breath and thoughts. “What’s all this about Friday? And what’s this ‘we can move in’ business?”
I could barely breathe. My whole life was out of control and I felt like I was in a car about to head off of a cliff at two-hundred miles an hour. I missed Georgia.
“The premiere? Book Ends? Friday? L.A.? We talked about this. And when I saw this gown… Well, it’s perfect for you,” he practically gushed, his violet-blue eyes brighter than usual, or maybe that was my mind playing tricks on me. He unzipped the bag and produced a beaded gown the color of … “The color of the morning glories,” he breathed, his voice growing more quiet and sentimental. His eyes searched mine, and he instantly was on alert.
“Hey… Sweets…” he whispered, setting the gown down and gathering me in his arms. “What’s wrong?”
As much as I tried, I couldn’t push away the tears that were welling in my eyes. And I couldn’t figure anything out.
Was he Charlie? Or was he Chase?
My job.
School.
Moving in together?
The baby.
Danny needing to talk to me about some mysterious topic.
Chase with Sydney.
So many things were barging through my mind. “Nothing. Everything. I’m just being stupid. But… But… I can’t… And… Just…We can’t be together. I just can’t—”
“Shhh,” he soothed, and walked us to the sofa. He sat and then pulled me onto his lap, securing me against his chest. I took a few deep breaths, taking his comforting scent in. A little The One cologne… a little sweat… a little licorice… He’d been eating Good’n Plentys while he was out. I smiled. He gently ran his hand through my hair until I’d calmed a little.
“Okay, now tell me what’s got you so worked up?” I loved the sound of his voice through his chest. So soothing. And oh… his southern drawl. My heart melted. He’d come back as Charlie, not Chase. “Is it the dress? You don’t like it? We can return it. I’m sure it’ll fit. You wanted to buy the dress? I’m okay with that.”
The tone of his voice pained me. Okay. Let’s talk about the dress and L.A. “No… No, it’s beautiful. I love it. But, I have a job here, Charlie. I can’t just jet off to L.A. for an opening. Our lives just aren’t compatible. I can’t—”
“Please stop saying can’t. I’ll call Michael. He’ll get Valerie to let you—”
“Charlie. I have a job. My being your P.A. was temporary. I need this internship for school.”
“So… you don’t want to go to the premiere?” His face fell as if he’d just learned that Santa Claus didn’t exist.
My heart broke. I did want to go. Who wouldn’t? And that dress… Gorgeous. But those Twitter pictures of Chase and Sydney popped into mind. “Why not go with Sydney?” I asked, feeling snarky.
“Sydney? Why would I go with her?”
“I saw the pics on Twitter of you and her.”
“And?”
“And you were hugging her, and kissed her…” I couldn’t say any more.
“On the cheek,” he finished. “Are you looking for a way out? What’s going on, Phoebe? I thought we were…” He sounded so confused. We looked at each other for a moment. “I want to go to the premiere… with you. I want to go to dinner…with you. I want to go to the park… with you. I want to sit around and do nothing… with you.” I searched his eyes for any signs of Chase. I didn’t find any. What I saw was 100% Charlie. “The premiere? Will you go with me?”
“I do want to go, but I just don’t have the freedoms you do right now. I have school starting back in the fall and if I fail at this internship, my place at NYU could be at risk. And this… this…” I put my hands over my belly, “this baby is going to make it all hard enough as it is.”
“You don’t have to go to school, or go later. I’ll help in any way I can.” His eyes searched mine. “What else is it? What else is bothering you?”
“M-m-moving in. I can’t.”
“But—”
“Charlie,” I started, my mother’s words flooding to the front of my mind. “I have to stand on my own two feet. I don’t want to be dependent on someone. Not yet. I need to figure out who I am. I have to know that I can support myself. And some of that…is living on my own. In my apartment. Going to school. Making a career. It’s all important to me. My mother’s divorce? It’s because she felt she didn’t know who she was because she met my dad when she was my age. She said she’d been miserable for the past 10 years. Happy as a mother, but not as a wife. I… I don’t want that.”
“I’ve never met anyone like you, Phoebe Fairchild.”
“What does that mean?” I said, pushing away the new tears that had come down my face.
“You are so strong. So many of the
girls I meet… They don’t listen to their mothers. They don’t want to work. They want to make it big without working for it, or settle down with a guy and be kept. You’re above all of that. You don’t let people run you. You run yourself.” He kissed the tip of my nose. His lips felt cool, which meant my nose was probably big and red. He reached up and finished clearing the tears away from my face. “But I really want you to come to the premiere on Friday. Please? It’ll look good for the network.”
I looked at the gown, then Charlie’s hopelessly handsome face and his pleading eyes. “I’ll talk to Valerie.” I sniffled through my stuffed nose.
“Now, the apartment. Please? Move in. We’ve already been shipped,” he said, fishing out his phone from his pocket. He pulled up his TwitterFeed and our #Choebe nickname.
“Yeah,” I giggled. “Jenny showed me.”
I started to laugh. “What? I like the name. It’s cute.”
“It is, but when Jenny showed me, I thought if people knew your real name, we’d be Charbe.” Charlie laughed at that one.
“My building has more security.”
“I trust Dominic and Gilbert,” I insisted. He raised a brow at me. “Listen. Let’s compromise,” I tried. “A drawer.”
“A drawer?”
“Yes. For my frequent overnights at your place. And let me store a toothbrush in your bathroom. And I’ll give you a drawer and a toothbrush here…for when you want to stay here.”
He grabbed me and laid me on the sofa, then pressed his body down on mine. “Are you saying we would have sleepovers?” he asked, grinding his hips into me.
Breathless, and trapped by not just his body, but his eyes. His gorgeous violet-blues. “Yes,” I panted.
“And if I give you a key for my place, for sleepovers, you would take it?” he continued, his lips going to work on my neck.
“Uh-huh. I guess,” I agreed, my body sparking to life.
“Will you give me a key for you place?”
“We’ll see,” I whispered.
“Oh, hardball, I see,” he joked.
“Uh-huh.”
Chasing the Dream: Dream Series, Book 3 Page 28